Exhausting Night
by Eve Davidson
Summary: Joey confronts Albert the night that Craig runs away.
1. Chapter 1

It had been an exhausting night. I looked at Craig, finally sleeping. He was curled up under the afghan on the couch. I thought he could eventually have the spare bedroom. I didn't think he should go back to Albert.

I wanted to brush his hair from his forehead but I didn't. I'd seen his mother do that a million times. Julia. She was close tonight. I could feel her worry, her urging me on to do the right thing. And of course I would. At the start of this day, when I was yelling for Craig and Angela in the park, only Angela was mine. I was trying to protect her, knowing she was in some kind of danger. The danger was murky, but I knew, I felt it. Now they were both mine.

It was funny, I had barely thought of Craig in three years. He had retreated to the dim background of my mind shortly after Julia had died. He hadn't lived that close, and once Julia was gone the visits stopped. The last time I'd even seen him before this school year had been the funeral. God, what was he then? 11? Maybe 12? Still a kid, his white face tear streaked, his father's shadow hanging over him. I'd been surprised to see Albert at the funeral and wondered if he was there for Craig or for himself. Albert didn't cry, not that I saw. His expression was grim, stony. That was all.

In the cemetery I knew. I knew almost exactly what was going on. It was all adding up. Angela saying she'd seen the bruises, all purple. And the look on Craig's face, this trapped animal fearful look. The way he jerked away from me, the quick anger at everything. Screaming that Sean was a liar and I'd looked back at Sean, his head hung down. And Craig telling me he didn't need my help, and the look in his eyes, that hollow, end of the rope look. Julia was practically whispering in my ear, 'help him, Joey,' My poor Julia.

Then we get back here after dropping Sean off, Emma looking at Craig with wide eyes and Craig not looking at her at all. He stood in my living room like he didn't know what to do with himself, and I saw the jitteriness, the exhaustion. I saw the "saving the world" almost smug look on Emma's face, and I knew she liked to save things, people. But it almost seemed like it was a game for her, like she could add up the points. But that was okay. She was young. She'd learn what the stakes really were someday, and how it's hard to have the answers.

Spike came and got her because I didn't want to leave Craig or even drag him out to drop Emma off. He'd had enough but there would be more. I had to see for myself. Not because I didn't believe him or Angela, it wasn't that. In the few dealings I'd had with Albert I could more than believe he was beating his son. But I had to see for…I don't know. Future proof, if it was needed. If Albert fought me in court.

He had still been standing in the middle of the room, lost. Not looking at me but looking everywhere else. I could feel the fear coming off of him in waves.

"Craig," I said softly, and he jerked his head toward the sound of my voice.

"What?" he said, his voice kind of broken and scratched.

"What did your father do to you? Show me," Put so badly, but how do you put it?

He closed his eyes for much longer than a blink, then he opened them slowly and turned his head away from me and lifted up his shirt. I stared. I stared at his fingers holding the edge of the shirt almost up to his neck. I stared at the pale skin marked with bruises. All purple, like Angie said. But I saw the fading yellow of older bruises and the dark black around his ribs and the cuts from being kicked and I saw the tears in his eyes again. He let the shirt fall back into place but he still didn't look at me.

And now he was sleeping. He'd taken his sneakers off and they were at the edge of the couch. Other than that he was fully dressed. I contemplated leaving him alone while I went to see Albert, but I didn't like that. I didn't quite trust him to stay here, to not hurt himself. I thought of what Sean said in his oddly adult way, 'If he doesn't kill himself first,' he'd said. Craig was suicidal. If I left him alone he might, well, God knew what.


	2. Chapter 2

"Craig's here!" Angie exclaimed when she saw him asleep on the couch. I sipped my coffee, hugged the cup close to my chest. At this moment I felt as afraid of his father as he probably did.

"Shhhh, don't wake him," I said, and she got the guilty look on her face. She closed her mouth and widened her eyes. God, she was so cute. My little sweetie. What would Craig be? I watched him sleep, the easy breathing, the way he curled up into himself.

I made Angie breakfast and kept glancing at Craig. He slept. Poor traumatized kid. What in the world was I going to do with him?

Angie even ate quietly. She looked over at him, too, and smiled her little smile. At least they'd get to see each other a lot more now. I resolved again not to let him go back to his father's. It might be hard, I knew how Albert could be. After all, he'd had custody of Craig because it was just too hard to fight him. But back then we'd thought things were fine. I knew better now.

He woke up, sitting up and looking around kind of puzzled. Blank. Then I saw the memories coming back to him.

"Uh, hi, Joey," he said, sitting up on the couch, the afghan pooled around him.

"Good morning," I said, fake cheer. Angie was finishing up her cereal and she went over to him.

"Craig!" she said, barreling into him. He hugged her and smiled.

"Hey, kid, good morning," he said, his hair all up in sleep corkscrews. He rubbed a hand across his face. If he was older he'd feel the stiff stubble. But he was young. 13, 14, I wasn't even sure. Boy, that was being a crappy step-father. But I'd be more now.

"Do you live here now?" Angie said, and both me and Craig looked at each other with doubt. Maybe he did.

"Uh, maybe…" he said, looking away. Maybe. That was one loaded maybe. I sipped my coffee, the warmth comforting me.

"Do you live here because your daddy hurt you?" Kids. God, were they honest. It was too much to take. Craig looked almost panicked at that question, such pain filling his eyes. I felt so bad for him. What did he have to go through?

"Uh, yeah, sort of," he said, not looking at her or me or anything really. He was staring toward the window.

"Craig, want some breakfast?" I said, changing the subject. It was easier to not deal with it so directly. He nodded and got up, stretched, and came to the table.

He looked uncomfortable in his clothes, and they were all wrinkled and slept in.

He had a change of clothes in his bag he'd packed the night before, and he went up and showered. I thought that might be a good time to give Albert a call.

"Hello?" The phone was snatched up after the first ring. I heard the hidden panic in his voice, his son missing. Anything could have happened to him. If it wasn't for Sean it wouldn't be me who was calling him but the morgue.

"Albert, it's Joey,"

Silence. Man, where did I go from here? I was always at a loss where Albert was concerned. But it wasn't about me, it was about Craig. I had to deal with this, with him. I had no choice.


End file.
